Teachers

CheriGENERAL

“Five days a week, we teach your kids.

That means we educate your kids.
Play with your kids. 
Discipline your kids. 
Joke with your kids. 
Console your kids. 
Praise your kids. 
Question your kids. 
Beat our heads up against a wall about your kids. 
Gush over your kids.
Laugh with your kids. 
Worry about your kids. 
Keep an eye on your kids. 
Learn about your kids. 
Invest in your kids. 
Protect your kids. 
Love your kids…

We would all take a bullet for your kids.



It’s nowhere in our job description. 



It isn’t covered in the employee handbook. 
It isn’t cited in our contracts. 
But we would all do it. 
So yes, please hug your kids tonight, really, really tight.
But on Monday, if you see your kid’s teacher, hug them too. Thanks”
~~ author unknown
Two of my kiddos are teachers.
Everyday I see my daughter working a 12+ hour day.
My son is working long hours as well.
They are passionate about their students.  And their jobs.

On Friday I experienced their raw teacher emotion.  Their angst.  Their tears.  
It was clear these young teachers were identifying with the teachers in Newtown, Connecticut.  They were hurting for the teachers, the school staff, the children.  They hurt for everyone involved in the tragedy.


I know you all are grieving with the families, the first responders, the community like we are here at TheCottage.  In our grief, we often search for answers.  I like Andy Stanley’s response….


Andy Stanley, Pastor of North Point Ministries, was on The Bert Show (radio show) this morning talking about how after tragedies like this, we lose our faith in humanity, and sometimes even in religion. It’s a little over 12 minutes, but is worth the time to sit back and listen to his wisdom regarding the tragedy.



Click HERE to get to the radio station webpage, then scroll down to the 4th audio button to listen to the radio conversation.   Or copy and paste the following:   http://thebertshow.com/ctshooting/


Hug a teacher this week.
Hug your kids every day.

Prayer of St. Francis
Lord, make me an instrument of your peace.
Where there is hatred, let me sow love;
where there is injury, pardon;
where there is doubt, faith;
where there is despair, hope;
where there is darkness, light;
and where there is sadness, joy.

O Divine Master, grant that I may not so much seek
to be consoled as to console;
to be understood as to understand;
to be loved as to love.
For it is in giving that we receive;
it is in pardoning that we are pardoned;
and it is in dying that we are born to eternal life.